Prelude
by Sailor Miaka
Summary: One day in 1978, the lives of five women change drastically...


Prelude

By

Sailor Miaka

Author's note: I have no idea where this came from. It just popped into my head one day and here we are.

Disclaimers: Don't own MMPR. I wish it did but unfortunately I don't.

Prelude

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February 1978

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Miranda Scott leafed through the outdated magazines as she waited for her name to be called. It was rainy and dark in Angel Grove today and Miranda was feeling every depressed second.

"Miranda Scott?"

Miranda's head snapped up at the sharp voice. She stood quickly and followed the nurse down the narrow hall. An hour and a few blood tests later, Miranda had the most shocking news of her life.

She was pregnant.

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March 1978

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Miranda almost burst out laughing as she sat down in the waiting room. The table boasted the exact same magazines as it had during her last visit. This time though, she wasn't alone. A young black woman sat on the opposite side of the room. She looked up as Miranda sat. Miranda flashed her a smile and murmured greetings. A few minutes of silence passed. Miranda hated silence.

"Have you ever seen Dr. Patrick before?" she asked the other woman.

"No." the woman replied, slightly taken aback by Miranda's friendliness.

"She's fabulous and so nice. I'm sure you'll like her."

"I hope so," the other woman replied with a smile. " So, are you…?"

"Yes," Miranda said proudly. "I'm due in September. You?"

"I think so, not sure really."

Miranda smiled as she rose and sat herself next to the woman.

"Miranda Scott.," she said extending her hand.

"Eileen Taylor," came the reply as the other woman grasped her hand and shook it.

"Eileen Taylor?" came the sharp voice of the nurse.

"That's me," Eileen said as she rose.

A few hours later, Eileen and Miranda were sitting at a local deli celebrating the confirmation of Eileen's pregnancy and the start of their friendship.

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April 1978

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Eileen and Miranda carpooled to their next appointment. At four months, Miranda's baby was just beginning to move, slight little movements that took her breath away. Eileen smiled; her baby would be doing that soon enough.

"Lee?" Miranda asked. "What do you think of the name 'Thomas' if the baby's a boy?"

Eileen tested the name, then shook her head.

"Nah. I mean it's a good name don't get me wrong, but Thomas Scott? It just doesn't flow right."

Miranda nodded, she'd thought as much. As she and Eileen sat down, she noticed an announcement on the board.

"Lee! Did you see this? Dr. Patrick got married!"

"Are you serious? I didn't even know she was engaged."

"Look here, On Saturday March 30th Janice Patrick and James Oliver were united in Holy Matrimony."

"Remind me to congratulate her when we go in 'Randa ."

"So, Lee, what names are you thinking of for your baby?"

"Don't know yet," Eileen replied with a small smile. "Darnell is sure it's a boy but, I'm kinda hoping for a girl. I just keep thinking of dance lessons baking cookies and the like."

Miranda and Eileen noticed right about then that they were not alone in the waiting room. A young Asian couple sat there. Miranda and Eileen smiled at them as they signed in with the receptionist. The woman offered them a sickly smile and the man nodded at them. Carrying on a soft conversation as they sat, Miranda and Eileen noticed how uncomfortable the woman was beginning to look and how nervous her husband actually was. Without warning the receptionist's voice echoed in the sterile room.

"Dr. Kwan?"

"Yes?" answered the Asian man.

"You have a phone call."

He exchanged glances with his wife before rising to take the call. A minute later he was at his wife's side again.

"I have to go, they need me," he said in softly accented English.

The wife nodded, disappointment flooding her features. Her husband looked guilty as he kissed his wife's head and exited the building. Miranda motioned to Eileen and together they moved to sit on either side of the now sobbing woman.

"Hi," Miranda said softly, handing the weeping woman a tissue. "I'm Miranda Scott and this is Eileen Taylor."

"I am Minkiashu Kwan," she said through her sobs. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, honey," Eileen said pulling the crying woman in for a hug. "Don't you worry none. We're here for you."

A few minutes of open sobbing were all the third woman needed to calm herself. Wiping her eyes with the tissue Miranda provided, she spilled her complaints to her new friends.

"I don't mean to be so emotional," she said. "It's just that he promised…and…"

"When are you due?" Miranda asked, trying to distract the overwrought woman from sobbing again.

"Late October, early November," She replied.

"I'm due in October and Miranda there is due in September," Eileen added.

"Taishiro is always so busy. He works at that new space port, NASADA," Minkiashu continued. "He really is trying though, to be here for me and the baby."

"Minkiashu Kwan?"

The nurse stood there waiting as always.

"We'll talk more, I promise," Eileen whispered as the Vietnamese woman made her was to the door.

Minkiashu smiled at her two new friends, never once realizing they had just become a trio.

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June, 1978

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Miranda's baby was beginning to show and no one was more excited than Eileen and Minkiashu, now known affectionately as Min. The trio of women had quickly become best friends. Their husbands had followed suit and the couples spent a lot of time together. The receptionist at their obstetrician had gotten used to making their appointments together and expected all three even if it was only one who was scheduled to come in. It came as a surprise on sweltering day in late June to find another set of women occupying the waiting room. One looked extremely sick, with a pale green tint to her face above her bright pink scarf. The other, a blonde with glasses, was rubbing her back and murmuring comforting words to her. Min immediately rushed over to the sick woman and began to rub her wrists as she introduced herself and talked to her.

Five appointments later the trio had become a quintet.

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August, 1978

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"Caro?" Miranda asked as they walked down the hall at the new Youth Center. "What's going on?"

"I just need to grab a few things for my painting class…" began Caroline Bellecoer-Hart as they turned the corner and made their way into the main room.

"SURPRISE!"

Miranda stared in shock as Eileen and Min, with their rounded tummies burst out from behind a table laden with gifts. Anastasia Cranston came out with Ernie, the kind owner of the new center, bearing trays laden with snack food. The other women in the room began taking pictures as tears of joy rolled down Miranda's cheeks while she sat down and enjoyed her baby shower.

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September 18, 1978 2 am.

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Miranda couldn't sleep. Sighing she rose from the bed, careful not to wake her husband, Liam. She waddled into the nursery they had readied for their newborn. She ran her hands over the dark wood crib with its matching changer and dresser, watching the glints the wood picked up in the moonlight. A collection of toys peaked out from an already overstocked toy box. Mirada grabbed a stuffed dinosaur from the top of the pile as she sat down in the red cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the room. With a week till her due date, Miranda was more than ready to meet her child. She rocked slowly, peace seeping over her as she drifted into sleep.

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A crash from her husband's lab awoke Anastasia Cranston.

_Hank must still be working_, she thought.

Sighing she rose from her bed and made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On her way back, she paused at the office that would soon be renovated into a nursery for their first child. A slight throb up her back made the almost six months along woman head for the cushy recliner in the living room. She propped herself up and almost immediately began to doze.

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Min was wide awake. Her baby was definitely a night owl. Awake when Min wanted to sleep, asleep while Min was awake. She sipped the tea she kept next to her bed quietly. Taishiro still wasn't home from NASADA. They had called around midnight, needing him to come back in. Min knew he was trying, but still angered that the supervisors couldn't run simple diagnostic tests without the designer. She sighed as her baby unleashed a mighty kick to the stomach. She chuckled a little and tried to make herself more comfortable. She picked up her crocheting, a habit Stacy had taught her, and began to work stitch after stitch into the bright yellow blanket. She didn't even know when she fell asleep.

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Eileen rubbed her swollen belly.

"What're you doing in there? Dancin'?" she asked tiredly as another small series of kicks hit her stomach wall.

She chuckled and made her way to the adjoining bathroom where her antacids lay. She groaned at the thought of climbing back into bed. Deciding to walk a little bit, she made her way down the hall and into the nursery she's spent all day painting with Caroline in. The bright mural added a cheerful accent to the otherwise drab room. Sighing she sank into the cushy old recliner she'd had her husband Darnell move in for nursing purposes. She laughed as she felt her baby complete another series of spins and slid into sleep.

- - -

Caroline Hart was watching the stairs from her back porch swing. It was far too hot for her in the house at the moment. Swinging back and forth gently, she could feel the cool breeze lick the bottoms of her feet. The serenity of the quiet world before her began to lull her to sleep as she heard the birds call in black of the night.

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Angel Grove scientists were shocked at the brightness of the Aurora Borealis. It was oddly bright that night.

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"Wakeup, Caro! Wake up!" Miranda's voice echoed in her head.

Caroline opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. Terror filled her as she gazed at the little robot in front of her.

"Welcome ladies," boomed a voiced the women to scream as in the former empty tube in front of them a disembodied head appeared.

"Who are you and where are we?" Eileen snapped as she helped Caroline to stand.

"I am Zordon of Eltar and you are in my command center."

"This is some alien bullsh-" Eileen began

"Can somebody come back to Earth and pick me up?" Caroline said in disbelief, effectively cutting Eileen off.

"Everyone, we are in the presence of a fully sentient automaton, in a technological masterpiece, being rude to the only being, no matter how alien to us, who possess the full schematics and knowledge of said chamber. I believe we should proceed carefully and politely." Stacey babbled off.

"What?" Caroline asked.

"She means that we're being disrespectful to Zoltar up there and that we should be nicer." Min translated as the float head looked on them in amusement.

"Look, uh, Zordon, is it?" Miranda said cautiously. "I don't know what you want from us but…"

"I mean you no harm my dears. None of you look very comfortable at the moment. Please be seated."

The women squealed again as five chairs appeared from almost nowhere behind them. They took their seats without much comment though and looked at Zordon almost expectantly.

"As I previously mentioned, I am Zordon. I am an intergalactic being who has been forced into this warp you now see. I am also a defender of this planet. Each of you ladies is expecting a child within the next six months correct?"

The women nodded mutely.

"It is my pleasure to inform you that your children are destined to be heroes."

"You're kidding right?" Eileen said. "Alright Darnell, enough of this, come out."

"Your husband is at home asleep Mrs. Taylor. I assure you this is no joke."

Eileen sat back, her complexion paling.

"Your children," Zordon began. "Are to become what will be known as Power Rangers. They will protect the Earth from the forces of evil. Should the need arise."

A shimmering column appeared in front of the women and images began to be projected to it.

"Miranda Scott, your son will lead the team as the Red Ranger. He is loyal and courageous, brave and determined but also compassionate and forgiving.

Eileen Taylor, your son will be the encourager of the team, vibrant and accepting, quick thinking and true. He will be the Black Ranger.

Anastasia Cranston, as the Blue Ranger, your son will be the intelligence of the team. He is steadfast and knowledgeable, considerate and thorough.

Minkiashu Kwan, your daughter, the Yellow Ranger, her inner serenity a calming influence in hard situations, her loving heart and smart mind a balm to those in need.

Caroline Hart, your daughter will be the soul of the team. Her passion, strength of character and compassionate heart will lead the team in its darkest times. There is no other I would trust as Pink Ranger."

The women watched as dozens of images played in the column before them. Silence hurt their ears until Min could take it no more.

"Why are you telling us this?" she demanded.

"Your children, if called, will not have an easy life. They will often be caught between the lives they want to lead and they lives they have been chosen to lead. As a parent myself once, it eased my heart and mind considerably to know the whereabouts of my children and that they had a place in the world. One that allowed them to help others"

The women couldn't help but smile at that.

"So you're implying that our infants are to mature into a fighting force for this planet?" Stacy queried.

"It will ultimately be there choice, but yes. They can choose to stay or to walk away. There is even a chance they will never be called. Every generation has a guardian. It has been over 6,000 years since the last team was on active needed duty and nearly a hundred since the power was last used at all."

"Our kids, are super heroes?" Caroline repeated.

"But it's their choice whether to be or not to be, so to speak?" Min asked.

"Very much so."

"Guys," Miranda said "Our babies aren't even born yet and anything is possible."

"Very true, Mrs. Scott. I meant this meeting as a precursor to events that might never happen. A warning of sorts. It is a difficult life your children will lead if they accept the responsibility of the Power. They will never be able to talk about it with you, but only amongst themselves for in the end, they only have each other. There will be a time when they would be risking their lives on a daily basis."

"But that's if our children accept?" Miranda repeated. "If and only IF they are needed. I'm sure they would make the best choice. I wouldn't raise my son any other way."

"That goes for my son as well," Eileen said.

"I will support my daughter fully," Min stated.

"And I, my son," Stacy promised.

"Whatever my daughter wants," Caroline whispered.

"Ladies," Zordon boomed. "I commend you. Your children should and will be proud to call you Mother. I only ask that you tell no one of our meeting tonight."

Miranda smiled up at Zordon. Her son responded with a sharp kick that sent an odd spasm up her back. She felt something rush down her legs and she gazed at her friends in surprise.

"Miranda?" Stacy said quietly.

"I need to go to the hospital," Miranda said calmly. "I need to go now."

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Angel Grove Memorial Hospital often got middle of the night births. What they didn't often get was five hysterical women each screaming and crying about being in labor. It took only a few minutes to sort out who was really in labor. She gave a loud scream as a contraction ripped through her. Seconds later she was in a wheelchair and being taken to a delivery room. Her friends were in the waiting room.

"Guys," Caroline said suddenly. "Should he call our husbands?"

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September 19, 1978. 3 a.m.

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Miranda smiled as she gazed down on her sons sleeping head. At 5 hours old, Jason Lee Scott was going to be hungry when he woke up. She leaned down to kiss his head, careful not to disturb the rolling bassinet he slept in. She thought about the strange meeting she had come from and wondered just how many other mothers had sat through the same meeting. A commotion out in the hallway caught her attention and brought her to her door. A young woman was being rushed towards the adjoining ICU doors. A nurse carrying a small baby rushed into the nursery. Unable to contain her curiosity, Miranda walked down to nursery to see what the trouble was.

What she heard there chilled her to the bone.

"I can't get him to eat. He needs milk, something, but he won't take it," said a nurse.

"Poor thing. Was he actually born in the wreck?" said a second one.

"Yes, his parents were on their way to the hospital. It's a miracle Dr. Oliver was on her way home from the Scott baby and came up on them. Otherwise, he might not have made it," the first said

"Was it that bad?" the second asked.

"The father's dead. ER says the mother probably won't make it either. Drunk Driver," the first answered as she tried to coax the infant to eat. "Come on baby, you need something, if your gonna make it."

"Let me try."

Miranda's voice sounded so strange she didn't even recognize it. The nurses stared at her as she reached for both the bottle and the infant.

"Please," she said. "I'd like to help."

The nurses softened and exchanged glances.

"Baby Boy Scott, right?" said the first nurse.

"Room 15?" the second one also queried.

"Yes," Miranda answered with a confused gaze.

"Just making notations if for some reasons someone comes looking for him," said the second.

"Here," the first said. "He owes his life to you and your son already. You saved him once; maybe you can do it again."

Miranda gingerly accepted the bundled newborn who looked at her weakly through deep brown eyes.

"He's so small, much smaller than Jason," she breathed.

"Dr. Oliver said he's about a month early," the nurse replied "You can take him to your room if you want; it'll be quieter in there and maybe more comforting to him."

"Thank you," Miranda said sincerely as she made her way down the hall and back to her room.

After several finagling attempts, Miranda finally managed to get back into her bed with the newborn. However, the baby simply didn't want the bottle. No matter how many times she held the bottle to his lips, he simply wouldn't take it. She set him down in a second bassinet and tried to think of what to do. Jason stirred and began to fuss. Automatically, Miranda lifted up out of his bassinet and to her breast to nurse him. An idea surged through her as Jason fed hungrily. Holding her son as securely as she could, she reached for the second infant and without second thought, brought him to her available breast. At first the infant refused it, much as he had the bottle. Jason made a gurgling noise that almost sounded commanding. Miranda gasped as the second infant latched on to her nipple and fed as ferociously as Jason was. Miranda shook her head in amazement. She kept watch over the new infant as well as her son, treating him no different. After a few hours and feedings, she finally began to wear down from the busy day. Making sure both boys were secure in their bassinets, Miranda allowed herself to fall to sleep.

A short time later, Miranda woke as a bed was wheeled into her previously unoccupied room. The woman was deathly pale and from the looks of things was not in good condition. The doctors and nurses fussed about her for a few moments saying things that Miranda's sleep and drug clouded mind did not comprehend. Suddenly, the second baby was gone. Miranda was alert immediately but calmed as she saw him in the arms of the beautiful woman of clear Native American descent next to her.

"He's your son?" Miranda asked the woman softly.

"They told me you'd been taking care of him, and I asked to meet you," the woman replied turning to her. "It is not every woman who will care for a stranger's child like you have mine."

"No trouble," Miranda said. "It's a mother's duty."

"One I will not experience with him. He and his brother will be orphans. I will not last till sunset."

Miranda sneaked a quick glance towards the windows where the sun was beginning to make its ascent.

"I'm so sorry," Miranda said as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Death does not frighten me," the woman said with a sad smile. "My husband waits on the other side of the river for me. I only regret leaving David and him behind."

Miranda stared once again at this woman's casual acceptance of her imminent death.

"This is your son?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Miranda said proudly. "His name is Jason."

"A strong name for a strong boy."

She scrutinized Jason and then her son in tandem. She laughed, a thin laugh that lead to wheezy breathing.

"The spirits guide us all. He and my son share spirits. Dragons, mighty lizards, Red."

The woman's breathing was becoming more and more shallow. She motioned for Miranda to take the baby from her. After doing so, the woman began to cough heavily. Miranda rang for a nurse.

"Tell your son- and mine," the other woman said very quietly. "Tell them, I just know. Power does not a leader make. Friendship at all costs. Red and Green, Red and White, Gold and Red. Rex and Dragon, Dragon and Tiger, Pyramid and Star. Friendship, not Power."

"Please," Miranda said, willing the nurses to hurry. "I don't understand."

The woman looked at her and continued talking, forcing the words out.

"You will, one day," she gazed down at her baby. "Soar, bright Falcon. Let your heart rule, your head lead and your spirit shine. Know she is yours always, always Pink, only Pink. Crane, not Tiger. Fight…"

The woman slid into sleep as the nurses rushed in. After a few seconds, the Nurses rushed her out as quickly as they had brought her in. Miranda never saw her again. It was sometime later that Miranda learned her name was Anna Truesight. Her husband had been a Caucasian man named Ryan. She never knew their last names. When her friends arrived she shared the story with them and the news that Anna's baby would taken and put up for adoption. According to the nurses, someone had already volunteered to take him. Until social services arrived though, Miranda had been allowed to keep watch over him and nurse him. He still would not take a bottle. Until Social services arrived, Miranda had vowed not to let him out of her sight and had given him a name: Tommy.

"It's so sad, 'Randa." Eileen said as Stacy passed baby Tommy to Min.

"Her words must have been very distressing, indeed even disturbing," Stacy said. "Given her state of duress it is no wonder."

"I wrote them down," Miranda admitted. "I plan on giving them to the social services worker, it was too heart breaking not to do this one thing for her."

"I imagine so," Min said as Caroline accepted the baby.

Caroline eased baby Tommy into her arms and she felt the first movement of her baby girl within her. A strong movement unlike the whisper kicks her friends had described.

"Well," Caroline said a little breathlessly as she quickly passed the baby to Miranda. "Mine certainly seems to have taken to him. She just moved."

The friends laughed as Miranda gently placed the boy into the second bassinet and took Jason back from Eileen. Just then a woman in a severe grey suit entered the room.

"Miranda Scott?" she demanded.

"I am she," Miranda replied.

"I am Rachel Williams. I represent Social Services for the state of California. I was told Anna Truesight's child was here."

Miranda nodded as a weight fell on her heart. She motioned to Tommy's bassinet. Her eyes and those of her friends filled with tears as the grey suited woman scooped the baby from the bassinet and turned to exit.

"Wait!" Miranda cried, grabbing the envelope. "Anna said some things for me to tell her baby. It's all right here. Could you please just give this to whoever adopts him?"

The woman accepted the envelope and nodded before exiting with baby Tommy.

"Bye Tommy, take care," Miranda whispered as the tears in her eyes fell down her face.

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August 28, 1993. Nearly 16 years later.

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In four completely different houses, in four completely different parts of Angel Grove, Four mothers sat bolt upright in bed. They scurried to their children's bedroom doors and were relieved to see they still slumbered peacefully there. A phone call to a sleepy father assured them that a fifth child was safely asleep as well. Hours later these same women watched as five brightly colored super heroes defended their city and ultimately their planet against an alien invasion. They alone knew what was happening. For their part, their children never knew that their mother's even suspected them, let alone knew exactly what was happening. Or that they might have known it before they were born. Their mothers would watch from a distance, never able to let their children know that they knew their secret. Wishing they could help, but knowing they could not.

A month or so later, shortly after Miranda Scott's son turned 16, he brought a friend home. A friend dressed in green, whose deep brown eyes Miranda recognized immediately.

"Tommy," she breathed out.

Both boys exchanged glances, for no introductions had been made, yet dismissed it as teenage boys often do to their mothers. Miranda however remembered and shed a tear in remembrance.

Nearly a decade later, during one of the most depressing points of his life, Miranda Scott would sit the boy she had nursed as an infant, watched grow into best friends with her son and into a wonderful man down and tell him, as he racked himself with doubt and pain, exactly what she had done and what his mother had said. That boy, Thomas James Oliver, would leave her kitchen and return sometime later with the daughter of one of Miranda's best friends. The daughter who had so dramatically reacted to Tommy's presence when he had been a new born and she still in the womb.


End file.
